


Cell 704

by Peoplesalad



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hallucinations, Inspired in part by SCP, M/M, Messing with minds and such, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peoplesalad/pseuds/Peoplesalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is being held because humanity doesn’t know what to do with psychics. </p><p>Something- someone- unsettles him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cell 704

“I apologize.” There was audible shame in his voice. “It becomes difficult to control at unpredictable times. It came over me before I could give any warning.” His posture was upright but he was staring at his own folded hands.

“That’s quite alright Doctor Lecter.” Jack replied. “We’ve re-enforced the room so it won’t be happening again.”

A solemn nod of a man all too aware of the fact that he requires reinforced walls.

“While I was out of control, did I…” He swallowed.

“Nobody was harmed.” Jack assured, and Lecter looked tired and relieved. He met his eyes, returning to his usual dignity.

“I’m thankful.”

Dr. Price typed up the minutes of the interview behind the one way mirror. Jack rose from his chair and gave Beverly the signal to unbind Hannibal from the other side of the desk. Safety precaution.

\---

When Will was brought in, there was less friendliness in the air. His answers were minimal and cutting. He shifted in his chair.

“You’ve been looking into people’s minds again.” Jack stated.

“Can’t help it. Minimal distractions make thoughts loud.”

“We’ll see to it that you get your hands on an ebook, then.”

Will read between the lines. “Nothing flammable.”

“It’s for safety reasons.”

“Mine or yours?”

“It’s better for everyone this way.”

Likely the logic for why he was locked up here. Better safe than sorry. Can’t have an unfriendly psychic out and about. He could read people. He could see what they see. Sometimes, he could even make things move. The last was what landed him here.  It had been the simplest thing, too. Just moving around the spare change in the cup holder around the wrong security cameras. That itself had been too much for comfort however, people like him had a history of violence.

It wasn’t pure misery but being watched day in and day out can only be so comfortable. There was a man paid to keep track of him from behind a one way mirror. Each was aware of the other but played aloof. His room was furnished minimalistically, something like a hotel room mixed with hospital sterility. No sharp edges.

Jack cycled through the usual questions, they had never been asked directly to Will but it was obvious that they were routine. Things were sounding like they were wrapping up, and Will was waiting for it.

“Do you have any complaints or questions?”

“…Who is in cell 704?” It came out as more of a statement.

Visible confusion from Crawford.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“So it is a person.”

Jack leaned back a bit in his seat.

“Why do you care?”

Will looked to the side and matched jack in his stance without thinking.

"I thought at first it was just the holding cell for a particularly feisty plant, but then it tried to break out." He worried his bottom lip and spoke to the ceiling.  “I can feel something from every cell in this place except for that one, Jack, that’s not normal.”

Jack had never told Will his first name before.

“You’re asking for classified information Mr. Graham.” Jack rose from the table. Will took a read of the room and found most of the staff either in agreement with jack or apathetic. Bev thought he should have just told him. She was nice that way, blunt. He wanted to smile at her as she was undoing his restraints but he thought it would be better if he didn’t. He had learned the hard way that one of the greatest kindnesses he could give in life is to leave the people he liked alone.

\---

Back in his room, Zeller’s thoughts were a dull hum behind the mirror. It was eleven thirty, that time when he was too sleepy to think logically but not sleepy enough to be entirely incoherent. He was also on the internet.  Will slipped into bed, and behind Zeller’s eyes. Something to do.

Zeller’s mind was a hum. Tired, malleable. Seems he hadn’t taken the advice that had gotten Will into trouble the first time for giving and broken it off with the girlfriend that was so obviously cheating on him. He was staring at a recent chat log. In her profile picture, her hair was red and wild. She took her time sending responses. Excuses. This was likely a habit of hers. He suppressed the alarm when he realized he had been moving Zeller’s eyes without thinking.

He hadn’t known he was able to do that. He had never tried. He tried to assume the mentality he had come to know all too well through passive aggressive silence, and moved the mouse that was under his hand slowly. It worked. He minimized the window and slowly typed in cell 704 into the database. His nerves prickled.

He skimmed. _Hannibal Lecter, “The wendigo”--_ Passed the serial numbers and containment requirements-- _Suffers from violent bouts that he does not seem to recall afterward, wherein he displays abnormal strength and a deep craving for human flesh.  Subject’s appearance is distorted during these episodes._

Will closed the search and withdrew. As soon as he was certain he wasn’t influencing him anymore, he let the unrest wash over him. He turned over in his bed and stared at the wall. A cannibal. His stomach turned. A faceless cannibal.

\---

The room was dim and lit by screens. Zeller hung in the doorway.

“Jack, I’ve been feeling a little funny.” His tone wreaked of setup.

“Bev has some aspirin, go scam some off of her.”

“The kind of funny where I get the strange urge to look up the info on cell 704, for no real reason.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Funny how that just sort of happened. Came and went, just like that.”

Jack put the clipboard he was holding down.

\---

“I’m still waiting on that ebook.” Will shifted about as usual.

“We have good reason to believe that you mentally manipulated a Doctor to get information.” Jack was trying hard to keep his tone professional.

“Well, since you want to talk about it, I guess I’ll do the nice thing and warn you.” Will leaned forward. “Whoever is in that cell, you have him all wrong.”

Jack was impatient but listening.

“Someone dealing with another side to themselves like the file says, they should be screamingly obvious to me. I should feel them from a mile away. But I don’t.” Will spoke like his own words confused him. “That’s not a man who has episodes -“

“If you must know, as of recent events his room has been reinforced. You probably just can’t reach him through the walls.” Irritation lay deep in Jack’s voice. “Which will likely be useful information considering you just proved yourself dangerous.”

Will slumped back again.

\---

“You don’t seem present today, Jack.” Hannibal remarked. “Is there something distressing you?”

Jack rubbed his forehead before looking up from his clipboard.

“Someone in containment has taken an interest in you.” Jack spoke the words like they were personally embarrassing.

Hannibal lifted an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“They’ve found a way to look into your files. I think they’ve become paranoid and have chosen you to fixate on.” Jack sighed. “I worry about the both of you.”

“Am I allowed to know about them in return?”

Jack leaned back, clicking the pen in his hand out of nerves. He was thinking about it.

“He’s a psychic who insists he can’t feel you there. You would think that someone so haunted by the intrusive would take well to silence but he is more distressed than I’ve ever seen him.”

Hannibal nodded.

“It must take quite a toll on his mind.” He looked idly to the side. “Although I am in no position to practice psychiatry considering my condition, I wish I could be of some assistance to him.”

“I don’t think that meeting his point of fixation will do him much good, Doctor.”

“I can’t imagine leaving him entirely alone would either.”

\---

It’s 11 am when Will first sees the stag.

His jaw drops. Adrenaline swells and he immediately checks in behind Zeller’s eyes. Nothing. Seconds later it feels like that was a foolish thing to do, of course it wasn’t a real stag, but why on god’s green earth was he seeing one? He swallows and tries to clear the shock from his frame. He grabs his ebook from the shelf. When he looks back up again it breathes a greeting.

If he says anything, he’s a madman. Dangerous and delusional. They had been right to lock him up all along. He looks at the words on the screen, but it takes a while for him to take the words in.

This goes on for a week. Always watching, saying nothing. It was a game he was already familiar with playing thanks to a one Mr. Zeller. He had put pieces together over time. A message from the man they had been scared Will was. He burned through a lot of books trying to keep his eyes off it. It had become less of a terror and more of a grim reminder over time.

When the clock hit twelve on Saturday, he broke.

He knew what it was, who it was from, but not what it was for. Maybe punishment for prying.

He was sorry.

“Just leave me alone…” His voice came out haunted and cracked.

It didn’t respond.

In a moment of rage he did all he could do, tossed his pillow as accurately as he could at the figure and curled aggressively into his sheets. He was so tired.

\---

“Our friend Will has been looking a little ill lately.” Zeller piped up from the door as Beverly typed something or another up on the computer with impressive speed.

“That’s what happens when you keep a guy out of the sun for too long.” She turned her head for a second to throw the comment over her shoulder.

“Not exactly. He’s been looking around like the walls killed his family.” Zeller popped a mint. “Just staring off into space like it owed him money whenever he looks up from that pad thing. Last night, the guy told whatever he was seeing to leave him alone and threw a pillow.”

“I’ll schedule the interview.” Beverly pulled up jack’s timetable and marked him down as the first free space.

\---

“I’ll be handing you off to another Doctor for a gentler and more thorough evaluation after we’re finished here.” Jack folded his hands. “Is it true that you have been seeing things?”

Will rocked forward and cradled his head in his hands. His words came out slow, defeated.

“I see what he wants me to see.” A jagged breath in through the nose. “He makes me see it, it’s a stag, I don’t know why. It’s his puppet. It’s his greeting. He can make people see things jack, things that aren’t real, and it’s not just me. He’s a psychic.”

“Mister Graham you have to give up this fixation, you’re drawing in information that isn’t even accurate.” Jack tapped the pen on the table authoritatively.  “We’ve all read the files so I don’t see why I can’t be open with you at this point. He experiences violent bouts of change and cannibalism but he is perfectly well detained, what is happening is in your mind, and your mind alone.”

“He makes people _think_ he changes, Jack, it’s to cover his tracks.” Will spoke into his hands.

“Then explain the cannibalism, then.”

Will sighed.

“Personal preference.”

“Doctor Lecter would not-“

Will nearly spat.

“Doctor Lecter?” A formal title. Incredible. “Oh of course, wouldn’t want to offend the good name of our dear friend _Doctor Lecter._ Look, it doesn’t… it isn’t forced. He isn’t _obligated_. Don’t ask me why, I can’t read him. _”_

“That’s enough, Mr. Graham.”

\---

His time with Doctor Bloom wasn’t all bad. She seemed nice enough, which is an impressive impression to make on a psychic. Her thoughts were warm, if that made any sense. It’s hard to describe aura to people who can’t feel it.

This unfortunately made him very aware of how cold it was back in his room, back with the stag.

The heavy fog of defeat weighed on his frame. It was late, and he was tired. Zeller was asleep in the other room. He glared over at the stag and wouldn’t have cared even if Zeller had been awake to see.

 _You could leave if you wanted to. You probably do. You probably know that. You already tried._ He thought at it.

He sighed into his hands. Zeller had begun to snore. Will shot a look of disgust at the one way mirror from over the tips of his fingers. It was the rhythm of it all that started chewing on his nerves. Painfully audible breathing, in and out. He flopped back onto the bed and balled his fists, getting ready to count the dots on the ceiling again. The rhythm went off. Something higher pitched, not quite human was fading in. He disguised his shock based laughing fit by coughing. It was the grunting of a pig.

 _…Well I can’t say you’re wrong_.

After a while, all sound faded out. Even the clock went quiet on the wall, and Will knew it was more manipulation. He was still nervous, but above anything else he was tired. He took what he could, and fell asleep.

\---

It was midnight when the vision of a floor plan hit him so hard it woke him up. His eyes burned as he opened them. Flashes of the location of an emergency exit and how to get there. The power was out. Zeller was still asleep. The rooms seemed empty and the stag was gone.

 He rose from his bed and walked to the door.

He closed his eyes and focused.

The door blew open.

He started running.

\---

A wave of air fresher than what he ever thought he would feel again hit his face. Midnight was always a surreal time. Things were still as he climbed out of the hatch.

He let himself wonder how deep underground he had been held, for a moment. The time he had spent zipping up stairs with movements that he wasn’t entirely sure were his to control escaped him. He noticed a car with no driver on the side of the gravel road. The hatch closed behind him and the synthetic grass fused seamlessly with the rest of the terrain. The keys were locked in the car. He focused and rolled down the window.

On the road, the sun took it’s time coming up. He followed the map burned into the inside of his eyelids. He thought about going home. He thought about them finding him at his home. He thought about being dragged back and being kept like a dangerous animal. He thought about being dangerous. Will turned on the radio to stop thinking.

He was a mix of pleasantly surprised and disturbed to find two suitcases in the trunk with casual and formal clothes folded neatly. No note. He wondered where Lecter got his measurements from. For all he knew, it could have been him.

\---

It might have been a faux-pas to change in a train station bathroom, but so was looking like a convict. He stuffed his old jumpsuit into the suitcase.

\---

Waiting outside with “his” bags, reflecting on what a bad idea he had likely made, a vision of a seat number flashed. He tensed. A look behind Lecter’s eyes. The train announced itself with a screech as the sun was coming up. He still appreciated the air.

He walked through the isle, tense, searching. His skin prickled when he saw a man with beige blonde hair sitting under the familiar number. The man looked over and Will had to force himself to keep walking. He put his bags into the overhead and slid into the seat beside him.

“It’s nice to see you.” An unfamiliar accent.

“Doctor Lecter.”


	2. Room 904

The train ride was mostly silent. Onlookers would have thought them strangers save for those who heard the short greeting. Lecter spent most of the ride admiring the view, Will trying to keep himself from shaking until his nerves went numb. He was sitting beside a killer.

The train didn't make many stops and the facility was likely far behind them when they got off. The only thing Will could recognize about their destination was that it was beautiful. The train station was busy but the open space made minds less intense, thoughts merging with the rest of the average noise of a crowd. The intrusive mental queues had trailed off, now Will was just following where Lecter walked. He wasn’t sure if this was indicative of lesser or greater control than before.

He was nervous and free. He wanted to ask ‘why’, ‘what now’ but all he could bring himself to do was keep in step about three feet behind him.

\---

Will supposed he didn’t know what he was expecting when Lecter had dropped the name of a hotel to the cab driver. The city crawled by and people moved too quickly to read.

“So what’s the occasion?” the voice from the front was rough, friendly.

“We simply decided it was time for a getaway.” Lecter sounded warm. Will managed to hide most of his shock by coughing into his sleeve.

  _You facetious bastard._

“You feeling alright there?” The driver kept his eyes on the road as he turned.

“Yeah.” Will responded on instinct. “Allergies, I think.”

The rest of the drive was quiet but Will stayed firmly tucked into the back of the driver’s mind. It was simple, unsuspecting. Lecter gave a healthy tip when the time came.

\---

The room buzzed with lab coats, clipboards, and small electronic devices being plugged and unplugged from bigger ones. Data streamed onto the computers lining the walls.  Things were being put back together as efficiently as possible. An overhead projector showed a map of the facility, two cells marked in red.

Beverly looked over the clipboard. “We’ve inventoried everything and everyone, there were no disturbances save for cell 704 and-“

“Graham.” Jack finished gravely.

“Every power source keeping someone from an escape quit at the same time.” Beverly unclipped the papers and began to scan them into a computer. “Even backup batteries were sucked dry.”

“What about the human side of the equation?” Price spoke from the corner. “Surely someone must have noticed something.”

 Bev shot a look at Zeller and Jack followed suit.

“Oh, so we’re going to blame the one with a history of being psychically manipulated for spontaneously sleeping through a breakout.” Zeller shot back.

“There were no signs of struggle or violence in the cells, they both just ripped open.”  Bev dropped the empty clipboard down on the desk. “Two escapes were made through different hatches. I’m not sure what to tell you, really, other than it looks like they both just sort of left.”

“On that note, it’s time to address the forty thousand dollar elephant in the room.” Price turned from his computer. “Layers of reinforcement didn’t even dull the blast that blew the generators out. According to this, the power went bust before the doors popped open, which means the walls did a whole lot of nothing.” Estimated times of damage were displayed on screen next to images of twisted metal.

“Didn’t’ this whole thing start because Graham couldn’t read Lecter?” Zeller finished loading his reports up until the outages and unplugged the empty memory card, slipping it into a metal case. “We thought it was the walls, but…” He trailed off when he looked at Jack. He was leaning forward on the main desk, holding his head in his hands.

“I need to talk with Chilton.” His voice was haunted.

\---

They were signed in under a reservation by the name of “Fell”. Will wondered what kind of life Lecter had lead to acquire a false identity, sans escaping from captivity. Will’s exercise routine today was absurd and left him with aching legs. Running up innumerable flights of stairs after only being allowed a day of monitored exercise every week; brilliant plan. He set his assigned luggage down, sitting on the nearest bed. He listened to the rhythm of the hotel. The rooms to either side of theirs were empty at the moment and Lecter was still impossible to get a hold of. He settled for listening to his own breathing to ground himself.

When Will opened his mouth to speak, it felt like breaking a seal.

"Who did you get behind your mirror?" He looked at the floor by Lecter's feet. His voice cracked from disuse.

"A one Doctor Chilton, a man of hubris and paper thin false pity. He looked at me like a tropical fish." Lecter opened his suitcase. Will nodded at nothing in particular.

"Did you ever... do anything?"

Lecter turned to peer at him from the corner of his eye before allowing himself an amused smile.

"He may have gotten energetic writing up an especially inaccurate article observing me. Knocked his own coffee over in all the excitement. I believe the keyboard needed replacing afterwards."

Will smirked. Lecter was odd company and never in a million years his first choice, but it was nice to know he shared his experiences with someone else. He reminded himself he was still in danger.

Lecter was an anomaly. However wrong the facility had been about the final diagnosis, their observations were based on fact. His files had depicted him as brutal, raw, and hungry. _Displays abnormal strength and a deep craving for human flesh._

He stood in a well fitted suit, unreadable as ever.

“You’re tense.”

“Well,” Will bit out the words quietly. “You did psychologically torture me for a week.”

“I never intended to torture, only to communicate.”

“You could have used your words.” Will knew he was pushing it, nipping at the hand that had come to attain the job of feeding him. But he was scared. And fear made him rude. “You knew I had questions and you didn’t say anything. You’re still not saying anything even though we both know you could read me like a book if you wanted.”

Lecter walked over and sat on the other side of Will’s chosen bed. They were back to back. A silent respect given to Will’s aversion to eye contact.

“I wanted you to want to communicate with me.” Will had seen inside the minds of liars and the honest as they spoke, picked up on the small details that differentiated the two in their voices. Will became uncomfortable when he thought about how Lecter likely noticed the same patterns. “I realize you found me invasive in many respects. I apologize for that.”

“Found? What, are you going to start asking for permission now before screwing with my mind?”

“If you want me to.”

\---

“Lecter was a man who suffered an affliction of forced brutality, Jack.” The statement sounded matter-of-fact. “He could barely hold himself together during these episodes, one minute a respectable man, the next a beast. He understood the importance of his captivity. He wouldn’t fight it.”

“It’s not that simple Doctor Chilton.” Jack leaned forward. “If what Graham said was true, he fooled all of us and we didn’t even notice. We can’t afford to let things like that happen. Either way, he is a dangerous man and he’s on the outside now. They both are.”

“I understand the paranoia that comes with working with psychics, Jack, it puts everything up in the air and makes us question the simplest things-“ Chilton had a condescension in his voice that he could not get rid of if he tried.

“Then _understand_ why I’m so worried about having underestimated two of them.”

“We can’t prove that Mr. Lecter was a psychic without the proper tests.”

“Then we can’t disprove it either.”

Chilton sank back in his seat.

\---

The suit Will was wearing was hauntingly well fitting. He didn’t want to think about how Lecter got the measurements.

The reservation was once again under the name of Fell.

The restaurant buzzed with minds. People contemplating orders, rehearsing orders, making orders, and silently regretting their orders. Will had made mental note of what got positive responses. Although it was no more invasive than looking behind people’s eyes, he felt strange when he tapped into people to get a quick test of the food. There was no other way he was going to know what these fancy French dishes tasted like, or even were, otherwise. He wasn’t in the mood to embarrass himself in front of Lecter by indirectly admitting that he was a stranger to restaurants like this, even though he likely already knew.

His gift gave him an aptitude for languages, so his pronunciation wasn’t terrible when he made his order.

\---

_When Hannibal had announced he had dinner reservations, Will nearly spat._

_“Shouldn’t we be lying low?”_

_“We made our escape in the name or reclaiming our lives, Will. Living in fear is hardly living at all.”_

_\---_

On the table there were a good number of spoons, and Will had to look off of other people’s plates to see how they were utilized.  Lecter gave a brief knowing smile from over his soup. Will felt his face burn from embarrassment.

He hated not being able to read Lecter’s intent. He could be the perfect liar if he wanted to be, but he seemed to show a preference to narrowly skating around the truth instead.

The meal was nice, and the bill made Will’s heart leap into his throat. He let himself wonder how much money Lecter even had in his false account.

\---

Falling asleep in the same room as a man who has a track record of cannibalism was hard. The wine helped until it didn’t. Will’s nerves had kept drawing him back up from sleep to make sure he was still alive. He checked the clock. 2:00 AM. Better than last time, but not by much.

The sheets were less itchy than the ones in his cell, but danger was more immediate. For a second he almost missed Zeller. He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing. Trying not to come alive with thought was hard. He wanted to force himself to fade.

It was as he was departing for unconsciousness again that he sensed it. He damn near ripped himself out of bed and on instinct stared accusingly at the mattress across from his. There was something borderline comical in seeing Hannibal sit up in his own bed as slowly as he did. There was an aura, however dull it may have been, of malicious intent. Will let go of the breath he was holding when he realized that it wasn’t coming from Lecter.

Hannibal looked mildly confused. He looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes, something that Will found himself doing when he wanted to get a read on something.

“They are awfully late.” Hannibal opened his eyes again. Whoever it was they were coming up the elevator with someone blissfully ignorant of their intent.

“In the mood for blood as well, apparently.” It was pointless to stare at where he felt the aura from but Will was doing it anyway. His eyes traced the line up the elevator shaft, down the hall, to the room beside their own.  He found himself sat up on his knees, staring at the wall above the headboard in panic.

Will darted behind the other man’s eyes. He tried hijacking his motor system but the other man was too intense, too awake. Boiling over with barely contained murder. Will tired to match his tone, but he couldn’t synchronize. “He’s going to do it tonight. He’s going to do it tonight and I can’t stop him.”

“Can’t you?”

“Now is not the time to play keep away with information.” Will bit out the words.”What do you know that I don’t?”

“Those who are set on their goals like our friend here cannot be completely defused.” Hannibal found himself looking at the wall as well. “However they can be delayed. Implant a new idea, the idea to wait, and intervene before the timer runs out.”

“How do I do that?” Will’s words came out rushed for good reason.

“I’m afraid it’s likely neither you nor I can do it alone.”

“Alone?” Will twitched.

“Attempting it simultaneously should burn the idea into his mind for as long as it needs to be there. Two against one.”

“So you’ll-“

“I am not without Honor, Will. Nobody is dying tonight, if you allow it.”

For a moment Will was furious at the implication that he was the obstacle that kept the young girl in the other room for safety, but when he turned he saw a surprisingly humble face. He was asking permission. Will nodded and closed his eyes. Lecter began to instruct.

“I take it you already know how to go behind someone’s eyes, so I will help you from there. “ Graham adjusted himself to be more centered. “His view will be your handle. Work slowly inwards. Sink without intention into the most base of his instincts. Slowly begin to burn.” Will kept his mind as steady as he could, and felt the other man start to give way. “It is imperative that he wait until tomorrow night. Midnight.” The thought continued to press steadily. “He _must_ hold off.” From behind  the other man’s eyes he could see arms relaxing. “It will be imperfect if he doesn’t. There is no room for doubt.”

Will felt a click as the idea set into the other man’s mind.

He opened his eyes. He was stiff with adrenaline. He stretched, let his heart calm. Hannibal seemed pleased.

“Psychics get stronger around each other, don’t they.” Will’s words were something like a whisper. “Is that why you want me around?”

“We do.” Lecter reflected for a moment. “There will always be strength in numbers. But that is not the only reason I’ve decided to help you.”

“It’s the only one that makes sense.” Will dropped back into the sheets. The only item he had left to his name that wasn’t borrowed was left in his old cell. He never did get to the end of that book. He was a man running on time borrowed from someone with a history of devouring human organs.

He was tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bustin' this thing into a three part story since y'all are sweeties.


	3. Room 906

Will woke to an empty room. The sun was streaming through the curtains. It felt nice to have windows again.

He felt the hotel move around him, each mind or so to a room. A familiar layout with miles more freedom than the cell block. He looked at the clock; He had managed to sleep until eleven. There was a book on the bedside table, the same book he never got around to finishing, _Les Miserables._ It was thicker in person. When Will opened it up to where the receipt was, it was his page.

He sighed.

\---

“We don’t know if Graham has Lecter or if Lecter has Graham” Jack spoke to nobody in particular.

“Well as long as they have each other.” Price feigned whimsy. Beverly silenced a snort.

The message that would be forwarded to all posts was displayed on the main screen. Time of escape, estimate of distance from facility, and known details were listed in the visible bullet points. It went into detail under the fold.

“All we can really do is keep our usual lookout for the abnormal and see if we can spot any familiar faces. We’ve got eyes everywhere, it shouldn’t be long.” Zeller clicked his pen against the table. The optimism in his voice was thin.

\---

Will twitched as a snowflake obscured the words. It was July. He was indoors. When he looked up from his book faint little snowflakes were fading in and out of existence and a deep annoyance washed over him. He would have liked to ignore it and keep reading but the flakes continued to land on the open pages. He stared at the door expectantly.

Lecter walked in with a bag in each hand, pushing the door open with his shoulder. Another day, another suit. This one seemed more casual.

“So much for asking permission.” Will couldn’t see the words but he ducked his head back down into the book anyway. A mild look of confusion was on Hannibal’s face.

“I beg your pardon?” Lecter closed the door with his shoe before looking over to Will.

Will looked up and silently turned his book over, letting the light layer of snow slip off. At that, Lecter was the most surprised Will had seen him.

“I apologize, this vision wasn’t intended for you.”

 The snow withdrew into nothing and Will’s face was heavy with doubt.

“Who was it for, then?”

“Just myself.” Hannibal placed the unmarked plastic bags down. “Before I learned to impose visions on others, I would induce them in my own mind for the sake of escape. As you can see, I still do.” A single snowflake landed on Will’s book before disappearing again.

“So what, I picked up on this by mistake?”

“Evidently so. I suppose we are on a similar wavelength after our combined efforts yesterday.”

“But I can’t read you.” He marked his page with the receipt and placed the book on the night stand.

“You may soon be able to. When psychics establish a mutual link over an extended period of time, it can be difficult if not impossible to cut off. Minds like ours want to hold onto it. Perfect communication”

Will tensed at the thought. A wish granted, irreversibly.

The room next door  was a pleasant buzz. The girl was watching TV. The man, the father, was in the washroom. They were likely going on an outing soon. Something about a market.

Will took a deep breath in and out.

“If we tell the police about the situation, they’ll wonder how we even know to begin with, if they don’t send us back to the cell block again first.”

“So conventional intervention is out of the question.” Lecter sat at the foot of his own bed.

“You suggest unconventional intervention?”

“It is a path we have already taken steps on.”

“I guess you are intimately familiar with the unconventional.” Will glared at the floor.

_How many people have you killed?_

“My thought process is not as far removed from your own as you think.” Will shifted away slightly as Lecter spoke. The thought may have been directed at Lecter, but knowing he reached into his mind to get it was still off-putting. “Tell me Will, do you consider yourself human?”

Will paused for a long time. It had been something he had contemplated his whole life, but never had an answer to.

“I know that they don’t consider me human.”

“Something evolved, then.”

“They hardly think it in such kind terms.”

“I do.”

Will looked over at Lecter. He had the intention of staring at his collar or something, but found himself holding eye contact. He blinked and looked away again.

“We’ve seen into minds, Will. We are able to make precise judgments of character in an instant. The kind and the unkind. The polite and the rude. ”

“Those who deserve to live and die?”

Will knew that the pause was in agreement.

 “…So can I ask why you…” _Bouts of cannibalism._ It was such a surreal phrase to read. “…Why?”

“I can say with honesty I have never eaten one of my own kind before.”

Will wanted to object, to say something in rebuttal, but his mind went blank. Lecter was a man who loved his wordplay. He coughed again to cover his nervous chuckle. Lecter smiled, he had to have memorized Will’s trick by now.

“So how do you do it?” Will curled slightly inwards on the bed. He was still in his makeshift pajamas. He felt like he was tied to something, someone, bigger than himself. “Make people see things.”

“I create the vision for myself and forward it, although it is easier said than done. May I?”

Will faced Lecter at the request. Nothing would be gained from denying him, whatever it was.

“...Sure.”

And with that, the roof was gone. Will’s eyes widened. A world without light pollution or clouds wouldn’t have a view as brilliant as the one he was taking in. He wanted to deny Lecter the satisfaction of a look of wonderment, but he couldn’t wipe it from his face.

“I imagine learning to edit small details first will be a good first step.”

Will blinked and focused on a single star without thinking. It shifted slowly to the left. He uncurled. A wave of satisfaction came over him that wasn’t his own. He knew it was Lecter’s. He focused on that feeling.

Words of Lithuanian, French, the preference of the Winsor knot, everything became distant but brilliant as he shifted the stars at the far end of the sky. The walls were melting away in favor of a wider view. The familiar breeze of the day he had escaped. Within seconds, the only things left on earth were two Hotel beds. Against his better judgment, he extended his hand up. He didn’t have to look to know Hannibal was smiling.

Hannibal’s thoughts were like a bold warm calligraphy, miles wide. Will felt them at the back of his mind. Even the outlines for brutal butchering had elegance. Feeling them plotted out so warmly was as surreal as one would expect.

“Although it makes no sense… you aren’t unpleasant.” Will spoke into the stars. He supposed he shouldn’t be so numb, but there was no fear anymore, so his edge was gone.

“You are welcome company as well.”

From that point, vocal words faded.

The conversation they had could not be translated into language. Concepts too exact, too fast. Each took in the other’s mind like a landscape. Will found constellation construction to be one of the most relaxing activities he’s ever known.

Before he fell asleep Will had learned how to set the universe in motion. Shooting stars were skipping across the atmosphere. Hannibal allowed himself to drift off after him.

\---

Zeller gnawed on the cap of his pen like he was starving. Beverly leaned beside him.

“You been re-assigned yet?” She asked, peering over the small games of tic-tac-toe Zeller had played against himself in the corner of a notebook.

“You don’t think we’ll be seeing the escapees around anymore?” Zeller attempted to casually hide the indents in the plastic.

“Psychics that know how to get out are hard to get back in again. We’ve got eyes everywhere but we’re still only human.”

“Has Chilton already been switched around?”

“Worse. The closest thing to demoted you can be around these parts.  He has a history of writing up reports based on exaggerated information.”  Bev slipped a pen out of her own pocket and drew another small grid on the paper. “This was the final straw. That and he once knocked his coffee onto a lab keyboard.” She crossed an X in the center.

“We’re allowed to have coffee in there?” Zeller put an O in the upper right corner.

“Nope.”

\---

When they woke, an hour had passed and the walls were back in their place again. He shifted.

“I never wanted to kill anybody.” He looked at the ceiling like the stars were still there. “Never wanted to feel good about it either. Never wanted to give them the satisfaction of living up to the stereotype.”

Hannibal lifted himself from the bed.

“Is that the only reason?”

“You tell me.”

Lecter was amused. Apparently, he had been for a while now, fondly regarding Will’s cold retorts. A rare exception to a deeply enforced policy of politeness. Will was almost flattered.

“Before we set any other plans we must get you something to eat, you’ll fade away at this rate.” Lecter sounded like a fussing parent.

\---

Garret checked his watch impulsively. Six forty-seven.  Abigail walked ahead of him, eagerly observing the displays of handmade artistry, glassworks and such. She paused at a stand with stacked homemade soap. He felt at his pocket. The box cutter was still there.

The sun was setting and from the path they were walking through the market they would be down by the docks by dark. He would have to keep her quiet. An alleyway or something. He checked his watch again before Abigail called him over. She had her eyes set on a bar of hand wrapped lavender soap. He bought it for her without hesitation. Anything for his daughter. The bar was slipped into one of those small dainty bags and he offered to hold it for her while she scouted out other things.

The crowd was getting oddly thin considering the time. Perhaps people were making their way down to the docks early to get good spots for watching the fireworks display. Every time Garret fixed his eyes on a display, there were less people in his way.

Until the stands were empty as well.

The only living thing left was Abigail, darting around a corner. He followed.

\---

Hannibal bent to pick up the small plastic bag among the crowd. He tapped Abigail on the shoulder.

“I believe I saw you purchase this?”

“Yes, I, me and my dad were just…” She watched her father quickly turn the corner. “I guess he dropped it.”

\---

Abigail had become a blur to Garret, ducking behind buildings and in corners before he could catch a glimpse of her face again. He had completely lost his bearings.

How did she know?

His running made a turn for the aggressive. The places he thought he had just come out of seemed to fade into dead ends. It was getting dark. He picked up into a sprint. The gap between the times he turned the corner and the times she slipped behind them were getting shorter. He pulled the box cutter from his pocket. There was no time for planning anymore.

When he rounded the last corner, the city had been leveled. There was _nothing_. He dropped the knife. The world consisted of pavement. Stags roamed the empty space. His heart was hammering in his chest.

He had lost his mind.

“Are you lost?”

A taunting voice from behind. He turned.

\---

It was satisfying to see the fear of a previously immovable man. Garret had run himself into a corner, with help. Will was staring him down from the mouth of the alleyway.

He didn’t waste time.

He reached into the other man’s mind. His grasp was more firm than it had ever been before. Garret was live with fear, anger, obsession, and all in between. No more, no less than human. He examined every system, conscious and unconscious.

Will took a breath in. He began to shut them off.

Garret shook violently before collapsing. There was a crack as his head hit the pavement.

Will could hear slow, powerful footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“How humane.” Hannibal spoke over Will’s shoulder.

“I did what was necessary, nothing more.” Will had seen what Lecter liked to do with those who displeased him while they were still breathing; it was not a hobby he was planning on taking up anytime soon.

“And now we must figure out what to do with him.”

Will shot a small smile to the side.

“I think we both know you already have plans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Christ my new-ness is showing, in my attempt to make myself not look like an overjoyed goon I haven’t been directly responding to comments when upon examination it seems to be the polite thing to do around these parts I am sorry I love you all consider this a mass thank you and a hug  
> You've been sweeties ;-;


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